Mark's Boyfriend
by JazzyLittleMonster
Summary: CollinsxAngelxMark. AU, set around the time of RENT. What if one of his best friends got there first? Will eventually be CollinsxAngel. Part of the Another Road, Another Way series.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: I don't own RENT or its characters. They are property of Mr Larson and family._

_This is an AU fic, set at around the time RENT is._

_This chapter is Collins' experiences._

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Mark's Boyfriend

Chapter 1

I wipe the spoon on the only dishcloth in our loft (which has seen better days) and dunk it into the bowl of Cap'n Crunch, milk sploshing over the side of the bowl onto the already soiled countertop. I alternate the joint in my right hand with the spoon in my left – a damn good breakfast. My mind is on the essay I'm writing for an NYU philosophy journal. I've gotta hit up the NY Public Library after breakfast (and a shower, if the water's hot), to get some books for research. I'm just outlining my thesis in my head when Roger plonks down on a stool across the counter from me, entering my line of vision and snapping me out of the essay.

"What's up man?" I say, glad to see him up before noon and taking some interest in breakfast.

"Nothin' much" he shrugs, eating from the box with his fingers and without milk.

"If Mark was here, he'd freak" I chuckle, nodding to the box.

"Oh, dude, did you hear?" (I'm surprised to see the traces of something that was once a sparkle in Rog's eyes, as he gossips like high school cheerleader.) "Mark's on a date."

"No way!" my own eyes light up at the prospect.

"I know, man, that's what I said." We both laugh. "But it's true. He was telling me about it on his way out earlier. I wasn't really listening, I'd only jus' woke up… But...uh…apparently they've been together a few weeks. He seemed really happy."

"Well, who'da thought it. Good for him, that's great. I'm glad he found someone."

"Yeah, maybe he'll finally stop runnin' 'round after Maureen now and they can both move on and forget it ever happened" We laugh again – poor Mark. I really am happy for him.

"Bit of a weird time for a date, though, ten am?"

"Don't ask me, that's what I thought. From what he says, this person's apparently something special. Bit…um…different, ya know?"

"Makin' the effort to get up early for a date, I'd call that special. Dedicated at least."

We both chuckle, to ourselves really, because it's not like either of us can talk when neither of us has seen action for at least three weeks in Roger's case, and in mine a lot longer. Not that I'm bothered, I don't go looking for romantic stuff, if it's gona happen for me, it will. And considering my current circumstances, I doubt it will, so there's no point trying to push it and getting upset about it. Doesn't mean I wouldn't like to though. Doesn't mean I don't think about it sometimes, havin' someone to share things with…I just don' know right now who that person would be. I wouldn' even know what to look for if I was on the...lookout, or whatever they're callin' it these days. Maybe I'm the lone, dependable type. Mark's the type that needs affection though. I was gettin' worried for him, I'm glad he's got something good goin'.

"Well more power to him. That's my boy." I proclaim as I toss both the empty bowl and the remains of the joint in the sink, to do later. Roger's chair scrapes as he gets up, only to plonk down on the couch, staring out the window, our conversation already forgotten, a song in his head as he reaches for his guitar.

Fuck the shower, I wanna get started on this research.

"I'm goin' to the library, be back later." I call on my way out, even though I know he's not listenin'.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Still don't own them. Still Collins POV._

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Mark's Boyfriend

Chapter 2

I kick open the door of the loft with my old black winter boot, since my hands are occupied with a heavy stack of books from the library and a coffee that's lukewarm and sloshing over the brim, spattering the books with brown dots.

"Shit" I mumble, through teeth clenched on my keys.

I spit 'em down on the only table among our sparse furnishing and kick off my boots, skiddin' a bit in my socks as I notice a headline on the open issue of The Voice on the table and scoot over to read it. It's a great article, I get really into it, still clutchin' at my coffee and books, and barely register the front door openin' again.

"Hey, Collins" Mark chirps, uncharacteristically exuberant.

"Hey, man" I acknowledge, not quite done with the bit I'm readin'.

"Collins, I want you to meet someone."

Mark's enthusiasm can only mean he's brought his date home, and curiosity tears me away from the article, glancin' over my shoulder, to see Mark rosy-cheeked and grinnin' as he peels off his scarf and drapes it over the back of a chair. I turn fully 'round, nice to be polite to the latest potential member of the family, and to his left I see the date. A petite Latina with pretty brown eyes, that engulf you the moment you look at them, in enormous platform boots and a daisy-patterned mini dress and psycadelic tights. Not the type I would have expected Mark to be with, tho' I 'spose after Mo' nothin's too crazy. She looks like something from another world, hopping eagerly from foot to foot as she plays with the string of sparkly beads around her neck. Biting her raspberry stained lip, I can't tell if she's nervous or excited or just has a lot of energy. Taking her cue, she bounds forward like a kid and sticks out her hand.

"Hi, I'm Angel." The graceful, feminine voice has a throatiness to it that almost makes me shiver. It doesn't match with the young-vibe she gives off, but at the same time is perfect.

Her nails are electric blue and bitten down to the fingers, and at this distance I slowly realise that she is actually a he. I'm a bit shocked, though not unpleasantly, and I'm further thrown off when I make direct eye contact with those deep, expectant brown eyes that seem to gently penetrate me, so by the time I realise Angel is waitin' to shake my hand, I forget that I'm still holdin' the coffee and the books and fumble stupidly, nearly droppin' them all. I look up to see Angel's serene smile widenin', his eyes twinklin'. Gigglin' deliciously, he reaches out slowly and takes the coffee cup (his hands are soft when our fingers brush) and sets it down on the table. Feelin' awkward, like my body is too big for the space around me and I'm a bit off balance, I chuckle 'n' blush. I've always been shy with strangers, and this particular one makes me feel really unusually uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. I just wish his eyes didn' feel so brazen on me, in front of Mark. It felt like the moment should be private, but that made no sense since I barely knew this guy and he was Mark's boyfriend…girlfriend…something…

"Angel, this is Collins" Mark supplies, and I realise I've forgotten to introduce myself and haven' even shook his hand yet.

Feelin' like I should be reverent, because Angel's eyes are still dancin' with mine, and he...she looks so delicate (her boldness is nothin' like Mo's) and has a regal air about her, I take the small golden hand and give it a light squeeze.

"Pleasure" I mumble, wantin' to appear like a gentleman and unsure what to say. I don' speak a lot, and when I do I tend to mumble and it's usually because I'm not expectin' to be heard over the others, but now I kinda like it 'cuz I think maybe it sounded sexy, 'cuz my voice caught a bit at the back of my throat 'n' it came out pretty low. 'N' then I think, since when have I cared about soundin' sexy or gentlemanly. But Angel's grin is a raspberry lookin' cupid's bow and I can't help grinnin' back and feelin' macho; an' I don' think I've ever felt macho before.

"Oh the pleasure's all mine, honey." Angel practically breathes, and I've been focussed on her for so long I wonder if Mark's still in the room. I feel bad, what if it looks like I'm…flirtin'. Or is it just in my imagination that the room's hotter than it was earlier and there's less air and the distance between me and Mark's date is too small.

"So you're Mark's…"

"Yeah, Mark and I have been official for two weeks now!"

I'm thankful for her interruption, 'cuz I'm not sure what pronoun I was gonna use, or what I was gonna say after that apart from "Oh". I realise I'm smilin' in response to Angel's proud declaration – she seems to have that effect on me, unconscious smilin'. We're both smilin', at each other, an' she's so close and her eyes are like magnets or windows or something more poetic. That I could probably think of if I could just take a decent breath to clear my head. She's…she will be great for Mark. I didn' even know he swung that way. But gender technicalities aside, from spendin' two minutes with her, I can tell she'd be great for anyone. Despite being a bit… unconventional. (Unique, magical). Probably better suited to…  
…me.

I frown that thought away as quickly as it enters my brain, ignorin' the strange pang of somethin' sharp and unfamiliar as Mark's hand rests on Angel's hip and guides her away from me (breakin' our closeness too quickly, before I'm ready to let her go) to the bedroom.

"See you later, Collins. Tell Roger to knock if he comes back early" Mark calls over his shoulder (as Angel disappears through the frame of his bedroom door without a backward glance) and Mark's seemingly unaware of the…atmosphere…between Angel and me just now that must've been just in my head.

"Sure thing, man. You kids have fun" I call, feelin' old and unsexy and lonely as the door clicks shut and I hear the mattress springs bounce an' Angel's squeal as she presumably jumps on the bed.

I allow myself to replay the scene twice in my head an' think about Angel for a few seconds only, before I shuffle in my socks back over to the table to finish the article. But I can't help feelin' left out, like there's a rip startin' to peel open inside my chest, as rhythmic muffled voices and Angel's escalating giggles drift through the wall and break my concentration.


End file.
